


Let's Set It Off (The Show Ain't Even Over Yet)

by brooklinegirl



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooklinegirl/pseuds/brooklinegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They hadn't talked about this and they hadn't done this, not since Projekt Rev, not since forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Set It Off (The Show Ain't Even Over Yet)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta notes: Thank you so, so much to shiningartifact for a wonderful beta with a quick turnaround and an eagle eye - you are wonderful! And thank you to my mrsronweasley, for her constantly amazing beta work and reining in my phrasing - so much love! ♥ ♥ ♥

It was so hot on stage, Frank had to shake his head like a dog to keep the sweat out of his eyes. Gerard kept giving him this big, lit-up smile, coming over to play on his side of the stage, sharing his mic, sweating up against him, and Frank couldn't stop grinning like a crazy person. Then Gerard would slink over to give Ray the same treatment, screaming into Ray's mic while Ray grinned like it was his birthday and the release of the new Harry Potter movie, all rolled into one, and played with his back pressed up against Gerard.

Nights like this fucking rocked - nights where it didn't feel like work, not at all, not even a little bit. Nights like this made it feel like they were in a bubble on stage, no matter that their every move sent the crowd into an uproar, the whole floor surging every time Gerard raised an arm, screaming when he told them to do the same - fuck, screaming when he _didn't_. Everyone was fucking _in it_. Nights like this, every inch of Frank's body felt lit-up, his blood was bubbling, and he could feel his _brain_ working, it was all so good.

Frank hopped up onto the drum riser, playing at Pedicone, spitting when it gathered in his mouth, while Pedicone pounded the ever-loving _fuck_ out of those drums. He was focused, concentrating, and Frank jerked his body to the beat so as to not throw him off. Pedicone finished a complex beat and lifted his chin, giving Frank this smile that was so different from what you'd expect - not a fierce grin, but this brilliant beam that was so heartfelt, it was almost _sweet_. Frank laughed out loud, so happy he could hardly take it, before whirling himself off the riser, landing with a jolt that made his bones ache and his heart swell.

It was a great fucking show.

They wrapped up the set with "Kids" and Frank's heart felt too big for his body, too full of everything he was feeling, too full of all the luck and love and happiness he would never get used to or take for granted. He was last off-stage, picking up the pictures of his girls and kissing their faces and he didn't care if it made him look like a headcase - when he was up there playing, he was playing for _them_.

Pedicone came around the riser just as Frank was heading off and Frank pushed himself up on his toes and launched himself at him, slinging his arm up around his neck, his arm slipping against the sweaty skin, so gross, so awesome. Pedicone slid his arm around Frank without hesitation. He was so big that Frank was tilted up against him, and he could hear his heart hammering in his ears, and oh man, he just loved nights like this.

They got backstage and Pedicone didn't let go of him, so they stayed like that, and just kept moving. Frank couldn't stop grinning and giving high-fives to the crew. Pedicone was yelling to a merch dude off to his left. "Hell, yeah, you're on, Mario Kart _smackdown_ tonight. Gimme a few to towel off, I'll meet you on the bus."

Frank saw Mikeyway as they moved along the jammed space backstage and dropped his arm so it rested against Pedicone's waist, swerving them so he smushed up against Mikey for a second, both of them sweaty and gross and awesome.

Mikey fistbumped him. "Excellent show, man."

" _Totally_ excellent," and Frank fucking meant it. Great fucking show, great fucking _band_. God, he loved these guys.

He spotted Gerard's red hair a few crowds over, the brilliant, newly-dyed color a beacon in the dimness of backstage. He was deep in conversation with that dude from the radio station, the one he'd been talking D&D with earlier. Frank stopped beside him and pressed the framed baby pictures into his hand. Gerard absently tucked them against his chest where he was holding Bandit's picture, too, not missing a beat in his conversation.

Pedicone's arm was resting heavy on Frank's shoulders, and when Frank veered off to the side a little bit, Pedicone switched gears right there with him, Frank's gentle tug enough to make him follow.

Frank was still in the zone, still half on the stage. He wanted to call Jamia, but she always told him to wait 'til later. She got how he was, how he wanted to hold onto this, wanted to keep his heart pounding, wanted to stay this on edge. Pedicone was with him on that, he knew. He was waving at people, calling out to them, but he wasn't letting go of Frank, and Frank was not fucking letting go of him. He pulled him 'til they were ducked together into a quiet corner, still surrounded by people, still surrounded by that vibe, but together, hanging on to that _feeling_.

"What a fucking show." He said it low, but he knew Pedicone heard him, because his whole _body_ edged towards Frank, bumping him into people on his right, but he didn't fucking care.

" _Great_ fuckin' show," Pedicone said back, his grip on Frank's waist tightening for a quick second. The smile he flashed Frank was brilliant, and those was the same words Gerard had said into the dead mic right before "Kids," sounding exuberant and awed.

Frank loved his band. He ran his hand up the back of Pedicone's head, grinning, and Pedicone ducked his head a little 'til his forehead touched Frank's. Frank took a breath. "Yeah," he said, his chest tight. " _Yeah_."

He didn't have a plan, until he _did_ , and he was tugging at Pedicone until they were in the disused dressing room in the back, the one with the busted knob that would lock you _in_ , but not let you _out_.

He didn't care at-fucking- _all_ right now about getting out. He just wanted Pedicone in there with him, god, relished the fucking recession of the noise as he kicked the door shut behind them and it was barely quiet and barely safe and he didn't care, he didn't care, he didn't motherfucking _care_.

They hadn't talked about this and they hadn't done this, not since Projekt Rev, not since forever. Jamia'd looked at him with a tilted smile when he'd told her who their drummer was going to be, like maybe she'd known about this before he had. That made the joy rise up in his chest even higher and he let the momentum of that, of the concert, the crowd, the stage, carry him through the door. It slammed closed behind them at the same time that Pedicone slammed Frank up against the wall.

His feet barely touched the floor. He was up on his toes, but Pedicone had his shoulders pinned back hard against the wall, his mouth crushed against Frank's, and it was good, it was good, it was _good_. Pedicone was holding him there so hard and he felt fucking grounded, the same way he had on stage. And when Frank pushed against him, Pedicone just held him harder, and fuck, yeah, there was a reason he'd picked Pedicone to pull into the dressing room tonight.

"Fuck," he gasped out. "Fuckin' just -" He didn't even know what he was asking for, but Pedicone grinned against his lips and held him against the wall with lips and hips and hands. Oh yeah, that was it. Pedicone's cock was hard against him and Frank was so turned on he couldn't catch his breath, it kept hitching in his throat to the same rhythm Pedicone was humping him up against the wall.

He was so there, he was so turned on, he needed this so fucking much. It was weird and it was different and it was perfect. Pedicone towered over him, and he was holding onto Frank like he didn't even realize that he was practically lifting him off his feet, like it was no big thing.

Pedicone kissed with his whole body, shoving himself up against Frank just this side of rough, pressing him there against the wall, and all Frank could smell was sweat and sex and he was so hard he couldn't even see straight.

"Fuck." His fingers were digging into Pedicone's shoulders, the way girls kissed in black and white movies, but he couldn't let go. "Fucking - Jesus, man, fuck, come on, let's - let's -"

He wanted to do _everything_. His whole body was buzzing with it; he wanted to drop to his knees and get Pedicone to fuck his mouth right there, he wanted to shove Pedicone to his knees and get his mouth on Frank's dick, but - "No time, no time, c'mon, _c'mon_."

"Yeah," Pedicone panted, running one hand up to Frank's head, like he was looking for purchase, looking to tug on hair that wasn't there anymore. His hand slid over the buzzcut instead and they both moaned, which made Frank giggle breathlessly.

"I should grow it out again, huh?" he panted, his hands working at the front of Pedicone's pants. "Give you something to hold onto while I blow you?"

"Fuck yeah." Pedicone sounded strangled, broken, and Frank's breath caught in his throat." _Fuck_ yeah."

His fingers dug in a little against Frank's head and Frank was harder than he even was before, fuck, he was so fucking hard, he could come right here, right now, and it would be so fucking good, he would hardly even care about the mess.

But he had his hand around Pedicone's cock now and damn, that felt good, and Pedicone's hot breath against his ear as he bit back a groan felt even better. "No fucking time," Frank said, his back against the wall, his fist working tight around Pedicone's cock. "No fucking _time_ , fuck, they're gonna be looking for us, gotta just - gotta just -"

Pedicone wasn't listening to him - he was too busy digging his teeth into Frank's neck. Frank gasped and arched his neck back, giving Pedicone purchase. _Fuck_ , that was going to leave a mark, and he didn't fucking care at all. Pedicone was panting, swearing, _close_ , and Frank's cock was so hard, it was pressing up against the front of his jeans and he needed something to rut up against so bad, so _bad_.

"Frank," Pedicone gritted out, his voice soft and deep and man, Frank liked it when he said his name like that. "Frank, fucking gonna - fuck, fuck, _fuck_." Frank stroked him through it, loved how Pedicone shuddered against him so fucking hard, loved the way his knees gave out when he came, how he was up against Frank with his whole weight for a few seconds, letting Frank hold him up.

"Jesus," he mumbled against Frank's neck. "Fuck, I needed that."

"Yeah?" Frank said, and he was wound so fucking tight, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "How about this?" as he pulled Pedicone's hand up against himself, right where he was so hard and so ready that just that, just that pressure, made his knees shake and he groaned without meaning to. "You need this, too?"

Pedicone pulled back just a little, gave him that smile, that soft smile that went right to Frank's gut with how _sweet_ this guy was. Then Pedicone was on his knees, and they still had no time, none at all, there was going to be pounding at the door soon, they had to head out, they had an all-night bus ride tonight - it was on the schedule, sternly, in big bold letters, that they had to leave by midnight, at the _latest_.

Pedicone knew this, so he went at it like a fucking pro - he had Frank's belt undone, his jeans yanked open, and then he was sucking Frank's cock into his mouth and oh god, oh fuck, that was it, that was exactly it, _Jesus_. Frank couldn't help but shove his hips forward, harder than he meant to, it got away from him, and Pedicone, god love him, just pressed hard against Frank's hips, holding him firmly against the wall, _fuck_ , and sucking him down.

It was so fucking good and Frank was so fucking goddamn hard he couldn't take it, he needed to _come_.

Pedicone had a rhythm going, rough and steady and deep, taking Frank all the fucking way in, and not easing up for a second, and when Frank wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, Pedicone swallowed around him with a groan. Frank shook and spit out curses - "Fuck, Jesus, fucking cocksucking Christ, _yeah_ " - and came so hard he thought his brain dissolved.

Pedicone pulled off and grinned up at him, wiping the back of one hand across his mouth. He eased off of where he was holding Frank's hip against the wall and Frank slid down to the floor without meaning to. He was sweaty and shaky and _fucked out_. It was great. "So great," he managed, as Pedicone pushed himself to his feet easily and started putting himself together. Frank tried to get his jeans done up without getting up, finally just letting himself slide over onto his back so he could get himself put away lying there, arching up a little off the floor to do up his fly.

"Classy," Pedicone laughed, but he reached down a hand to help haul Frank to his feet, so Frank forgave him.

He was fumbling to get his belt buckled - seriously, this was like rocket science right now, his brain was so blissed-out and foggy - when there was pounding at the door.

"You fuckers in there?" It was Ray's voice.

"Door's stuck!" Frank yelled. Fuck, fuck, his belt would _not_ fasten, dammit.

"Well, yeah," Ray said. "They _told_ us it was busted."

"Forgot!" Frank yelled again, while Pedicone just watched him struggle with his belt, giggling, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Of course you did." Ray's voice sounded a little further away, and Frank heard him calling for a security guy.

There was the sound of a key in the lock a few seconds later and by the time the door swung open, Frank was poised and ready (belt buckled securely) and threw himself at Ray, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. "My hero!" he said, ducking under Ray's arm before Ray could do more than give him a shove.

"Bus call in thirty!" Ray called after him. "Don't get locked in again!"

"Gonna go sign!" Frank called back over his shoulder. He felt good. He felt _great_. Such a good show. His band was so awesome. "Give the fans some love!"

"Thirty minutes!" Ray called again, as Frank snagged Mikey's arm and dragged him along with him to go find a bodyguard to take them out and sign.

"Thirty!" he yelled back. It was all good. His life was kind of the greatest.

the end


End file.
